


Got nothing to hide (That you know of)

by orphan_account



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Bounty Hunter! Jim, Case Fic, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, or is it????
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-22 16:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12486232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He hoped they would reunite in other circumstances, not because of a serial killer on the loose. But hey, you can't choose how things are done.





	Got nothing to hide (That you know of)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tunglo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tunglo/gifts).



> This is for [@serenwib](http://serenwib.tumblr.com) (bless) my buddy on Gotham's Exchange who requested "Anything I just love them so much". Set pre-season 3, when Jim is a bounty hunter, and Harvey is without his Boyscout. First time writing from this fandom so please bear with me. Hope you'll enjoy it!

The first one appears in the first week of April.

It seemed to be more important than the other cases, whose files were piling up on his desk by the day. No, more like the _minute._ Every goddamn lunatic in town is using the confusion to commit from muggings to homicides. Emphasize homicides.

Gotham couldn't be worse, and that is saying a lot.

He can't find the murderer, obviously, and it's ruled unresolved. Case file goes to the file storage, and he hopes he will never see something like that again, the hidden flask on the inside of his suit seems to help.

The third one appears in the last week of April.

Now he is not the only one investigating this, Barnes had assigned a _provisional_ partner in the meantime to help him in the case. The precinct its louder than the ordinary, something he wouldn't mind in normal circumstances, but the press is here too.

“That's all that we know until now," Barnes speaks through the microphones, camera flashes. “Our detectives are working hard to catch the man”

“Sir, this serial killer has already claimed six victims in a month, what you have to say for the people of Gotham who fear for their-”

“No further questions.” Barnes cuts the reporter off.

It's his last statement before he turns around.

The press is starting to disperse, Harvey leans on the railing of the stairs. The pressure is on them, on _him_ again. Something it's not to blame in considering what they dealing with, but he glances at his desk filled with evidence and roaming officers down the stairs, and he sighs. He is going down the stairs, the wooden surface of the railing passing on his palm, ignoring the rookies who try to talk to him excited. Maybe a coffee will help, there's a new place who gives discount to cops down th-

He stops in his tracks, stands dumbfounded in the entrance of the precinct. His hands twitch on his sides, and his mouth does as well. The precinct becomes silent, the man who he stumbled in front of him quiets down his thoughts.

“Jim.”

“Harvey.”

He has made the man in front of him stop, but not for the same reason as he does -in awe and surprise- but more because Harvey is blocking the way in which the man walks in.

“Hey, glad to see. What bring you here? Last paycheck, huh?” He says casually, even if there is joy on the tone, even Harvey sees him almost every three days. Bringing one of Stranger's monsters through the same doors they are in, but he never gets to talk to him more than a nod.

“Yeah.” Jim does that forced face, raising eyebrows and smile for a second. “Last one, seeing there's no more left thanks to Penguin.”

Jim rests a hand on his hip. There is something messy from him, maybe it must be the stubble on what Harvey has accustomed baby clean, or maybe it's the sense of tiredness he seems to wear  on his life recently. Jim has started to wear black more, which Harvey has seen almost every day on his suit when he was still a cop, but _now_ . He wants to thank whoever gave to him the angsty teen fashion sense once again, the black dress shirt making Harvey to tear his gaze off him. Not to talk about the _leather jacket_.

“Wanna grab a coffee? Was heading off to some new place,” Harvey gestures to the door, somehow managing to sound indifferent, and not as desperate as he really is. “They make a discount to cops, so you don't have to waste your last check there.”

Jim looks around, trying to think. Is it yes to go with him? Or is it how to reject his invitation without sounding too harsh.

“Look, Harvey I-”

“Hey, hey hey-” Harvey shushes him, grabbing him by the shoulder, directing him to the door. “You can complain to me all you want, but let me get my goddam coffee first”

Jim surprisingly doesn't protest further but keeps quiet until they cross the doors of the diner. They greet the waitress once they are sat on the counter. Harvey takes his hat off and places it on the table.

He has had came sometimes here, had found himself going out more than he had. The bar might have been his weekend alternative but now he saw in it most of the days. He knew the reason, the bartender knew, hell even the medical examiner knew the reason why. Harvey found himself wanting to keep himself away from the precinct, it reminded him too much of him.

“Same as always, sweetheart?” The older woman says, lifting her small notepad.

He rests his arms on the counter, Jim turns to read to the menu above them.

“No, replace it with two black coffees instead. ” Harvey tells her before she leaves them. He knows Jim doesn't like overly sweet stuff like he does, certainly, the normal order of ristretto would be sip only once or twice by Jim. He turns again to look at him.

“It's too early for alcohol for me” Jim comments in his vague order, grabbing a nearby newspaper, a quick glance before he is closing it and putting it back.

“It's 10 am,” Harvey taps his fingers on the counter. “And I don't start drinking till twelve, it's bad for your health”

Jim smirks at that, then looks down and gathers himself. Hopefully for Jim, and unfortunately for Harvey, the waiter comes back and places two coffees in front and a plate of danishes. Jim raises an eyebrow accusingly at his usual order, and Harvey takes the coffee silently.

“Bad for health is only drinking and eating danishes, Harv.” Jim does his _serious voice_ , that makes him gaze off to another direction.

There's the distant sound of the traffic outside, the TV playing, and the waitress talking with the cook.

“Eh, what is some guilty pleasure here and there going to do to me.” He brushes it off, gulping, then slurping the hot coffee.

“Harvey, you know I care about you.”

_Then why did you left me._

“Don't try to sweet talk me there, you know I were already going to pay for your meal.” He tries not to look Jim in the eye, and grabs a danish instead, soaking it on his black coffee.

Jim crosses his hands, thumb caressing the other, but then takes a sip of his coffee. Harvey grabs two packages of cream, opens them and puts it on his. He should feel uncomfortable by this, by all what had happened between them, but it feels like a fever dream. He knows Jim, he will come back, people need sometimes time off, but even a part of him starts to doubt that.

“So, Harvey, I wanted to talk to you about something-” Jim starts, turning to him. There are sad eyes on him, not once meeting his. “All that has happened, and now that there's-”

Jim taps the counter, clenching his jaw. Harvey waits, cocking his head lightly. Jim opens his mouth, but his eyes move out from him as if he is having second doubts of what he has made up his mind. He sighs and goes to look at the small TV besides the menu on the top, a woman talks.

“- _As we are here in the place of the scene. A new body has been found in Gotham's National Concert Hall, police are already here. Apparently is the doing of the serial killer known as “The M-_ ”

The waitress changes the channel, he hasn't noted how silent the cafe has gotten now. 

“Give me a break,” He curses, running his hand over his hair, the coffee suddenly was forgotten. “Now we have a major loony in the loose and he seems not to stop.”

Jim stays silent, but he notices the people watching them too, even the various cops who had come for the same reason as them. The dinner was smart offering discount to cops, no one in their right mind would open a new business in _Gotham,_ and they would think twice if they wanted to rob a place full of cops. But now even the officers are glancing at them worried.

“I imagine you're head of the investigation.” Jim poses his eyes above his shoulder.

Harvey grunts in response. There is a love-hate relationship he has going on with the job, but nothing would bring him more joy than getting this serial killer off the streets, and he knows Jim would too.

“You're still a bounty hunter, no?” Harvey utters out. He has never what people call, _delicate_ , in telling people things. Mostly wanting to get straight to the point, and Jim seems to notice.

“Yeah, but now-”

“They're no more _monsters_ because of Penguin, you've told me, but they're people, aren't they?” Harvey eats the danish in a bite, a smug smile while he chews.

Jim looks he is about to protest, but Harvey talks before he can.

“Look, all I am saying is the GCPD is a big pickle with all this serial killer thing, and you are the best bounty hunter I know, and I happen to be someone who needs to catch a guy.”

Jim clenches his jaw, rubbing his hand on frustration on it. He glances around the place, and now he can probably hear the conversation of the waitress is having with the cooker in a worried tone, or the officers accepting bulged envelops from customers just to pass the night patrolling outside their homes.

“I'm not a cop anymore” Jim finally poses his eyes on him.

It's still not a _no._

“You don't need to be a cop to it, you wanna get this sick fuck as much as I do, right? Have you heard the news of what is he doing?”

Jim seems to struggle, and Harvey knows he is manipulating him. He knows him too well, since the first time he walked in and wanted to go by the book. But Gotham has changed him, although he knows he still loves the city despite what it has done to him. Jim still wants to do justice in here, he wants to finally have peace. Harvey knows Jim will struggle, that he will accept the proposition of one step further of what he always wished for, of what his _father_ always wished for. Clean this city.

Harvey knows is selfish from him, but it's been so long that they had a proper conversation, and he has missed sitting down with someone he trusts.

Jim gives him a nod.

* * *

 

The car ride was silent, they joked around a bit, but not like they used to. Is if something had been fractured, but not entirely between them, it was Jim who got hurt. Harvey knew this, he _gave him_ the news about it and somehow he feels guilty for that. Still, he acts like nothing happen even it's painfully obvious it is, he catches himself thinking what he is going to say to him now after what he told him at Blackgate. He has never done that with anyone, at least in a long time. Maybe because he cares what Jim thinks of him?

No, that wouldn't be.

They notice his arrival, not of Jim, but of him.

The cops are roaming around the place, and Harvey lifts the police line for Jim to pass. The media is already here, and the prying eyes trying to get a photograph out of the scene they're walking straight to. Why bother, the same officers are going to take them themselves and sell them to the press. Rookies.

Jim follows him a few steps behind on his side. The tiles creek under his shoes, the wood too old as he walks. There are too many people, didn't the killer wanted to choose something much smaller? Not the biggest auditorium in the middle of the city.

“Detective Bullock”

Harvey stops in his tracks, a mental curse appears on his mind and goes to mouth it on his lips. He forces a smile as he turns around to the voice.

“Hey! Captain Barnes, how's it going? Lovely day today, huh?”

Barnes looks down to the chair where the body of the victim is and narrows his eyes back to Harvey.

“Don't bullshit me Bullock” Barnes grits his teeth, hand clenching his cane- “What is _he_ doing here”

He looks towards Jim, and Harvey scratches the back of his head.

“I offered him to work for us to catch this guy and he accepted.” He says, he knows Barnes doesn't go with rodeos. He is late already arriving here, now bringing Jim with him might set the man off.

“He isn't police. Civilians can't cross.” Barnes turns around and shouts to a nearby cop down the stage “Officer please escort him out of here”

Harvey rose his arms up, involuntary putting himself between Jim and the cop. He stops him before he could touch Jim's shoulder.

“Wait, look Captain. You know we need him to resolve this case” Harvey shouts, Barnes rises an eyebrow but doesn't do anything to stop the cop.

Harvey slaps the cops hand away and gives him a defiant look before approaching Barnes. He has turned again to Jim a few meters behind him who has a frown on his face.

“Look, Captain, we need him I tell you,” Harvey whispers, quiet enough for only them to hear. “You saw him, he needs the police again. I think this case will help him to get him back on track. Just as some kind of consultant of all sorts, I bet he will start missing all of this and will join the force again. And you know Jim, he will catch this guy and come on, doesn't matter how we solve this if we have the killer behind bars, no?”

Barnes narrows his eyes, glances at Jim from above Harvey's shoulder. He swallows hard, hand clenching on his side while he waits for Barnes' answer. The captain closes his eyes and sighs, before moving past Harvey.

He signals the officer to let Jim go, and Harvey sees Barnes talk to Jim. They do the same dance, whispering so now just the two of them can hear each other. Jim doesn't talk while they are it, at least with words involve because his eyes are daring Barnes.

“He is in this case as a consultant. Bullock, you respond for him.” Barnes states, cane sounding on the floor as he turns to both of them “If a body appears before you resolve this, I'm taking you both out, and _you_ Bullock. You're going to be assigned to pity murder muggings for all I care,”

Barnes takes a look of both, before he storms off there, the cop following him.

“Aye Captain.” he signals off Barnes with a hand on his forehead.

There is a big smile on his face when he turns to Jim, who raises an eyebrow questioningly.

“Got away with it.” He says, a playful tone present.

“Yeah, now let's just get catch a serial killer who has murdered six people,” Jim says exasperated, teeth visually clenching. If there was a way to represent the moment of regret, this would be it. Harvey doesn't know why Jim worries, he is the only one to lose in this scenario, not him.

“Actually seven with our new buddy here, but easy peasy, I mean-”

“Wait. Did you just said _seven_?”

Jim takes a look at the body next to him, a woman in their early 30's appears in a wooden carved chair. There are surrounded by yellow markers, Jim stands beside a number five.

He examines the woman, taking a look like he always does. There is a clenching of his chest seeing him do something so normal, detective-speaking, and Harvey stares at him. He should do something useful, ask the forensic the cause of death, where the other body is, or maybe why it's so cold in here. But he catches himself still staring for quite some time. Yet, he forces himself to tear his gaze away and go.

“Detective Bullock, I'm glad you're here now” The man doesn't get his eyes off the file report he is writing on.

“Thought you weren't the work field type of guy, Lucius” Harvey sees him write the last letter before he is facing him.

“Given all the department is under the microscope by all of Gotham, the captain and the new- _mayor_ , this requires drastic measures.” Lucius blinks heavily. God, that man looks as if he was always bored. More likely tired, and yes, Harvey wouldn't complain in that.

Lucius handles him a file under the one he was writing on, there is already the victim's name there.

“She was a former student at Gotham's DNA research department, her roommate says she went here to practice for a concert on Sunday and was meeting with someone. The roommate is already at the precinct ready to be questioned. The body was found at 6 am by a janitor, he says he didn't hear anything unusual yesterday. We calculate the death was around-”

“-Around 11 and 3 pm last night?” Harvey closes his eyes, finger playing with the files page.

“Yes. Cause of death is-”

“Stabbing in the chest.”

Lucius hums in agreement, walking towards where the body is. Jim is there examining it intently, he has a pen in his hands, gently checking out her clothing. Lucius stops in his tracks, surprise making present on his face, before returning again into nothingness. The air is chilly in here even in the end of April, must be the coziness the wooden place bears.

“Detective Gordon, what a pleasant surprise” Harvey notes there's sincerity when Lucious speaks it, even with his monotone expression.

Jim stands up, he rests his hands on his hips, the action making his leather jacket rise up.

“Hey, Lucius,” Jim greets him, voice rougher. Maybe because he can see the body in person rather than in the newspaper. Up close crime scenes are different than blurred lines printed out. “And just call me Jim, I'm still a bounty hunter. Just helping out”

“As you wish, Mr. Gordon”

Harvey looks at the woman and he is glad years of doing this haven't failed him in not grimacing at the sight.

The woman is laying on his back, face resting peacefully on the side. Her face is painted with red lipstick, and there is no sign of abuse on his skin. She is exactly in the middle of the scenario, and she wears a white robe. Perhaps the most usual feature of this crime scene is the black angel wings she bears, and the table beside her with a rose. Her leg is positioned strangely so it's resting on the table.

“Don't tell me she was a violinist.” Harvey clenches his jaw.

“Yes, we think that is hers.” Lucious points out the one resting on her arms.

Harvey shakes his head. Now that's just sick.

“It's weird. Haven't they found another body with her?” Jim turns to Lucius.

Harvey smiles lightly, how he had missed the involuntary instinct Jim possesses. All that police blood running through him must be something as common as breathing. Harvey looks down, reminding himself he has to convince Jim to return to the GCPD. These small interactions bringing him joy in the dull and almost grim job. Although he would never admit he wants him back, he hopes he doesn't let it know involuntary with gestures.

“No. Police had searched the whole place all morning but no signs of it. I have actually just made a report ruling out the possibilities of a second victim”.

“Why only one,” Harvey asks, moving around. He needs to move, the sight of her, so _young_ , makes him clench his jaw. “Is that psycho trying to get us confused?”

Harvey doesn't expect them to answer, he raises his hat to comb his hair and then put it in place once again.

“You're sure is the same guy?” Jim runs his hand on his chin. Harvey maybe thinks he feels out of place, seeing he doesn't know all the details as a civilian. Sure gossips and rumors would go in the news, but the file cases were only accessed by few people, Harvey made sure of that. “A copycat maybe? Sure with all this press, someone would do it.”

“Apparently it is the killer. I need to run some tests if the murder weapon matches the same as the other victims, but the scenario is present as the previous. The rose in the table confirms the killer's signature along with the artistic scene.”

Jim nods slowly in confusion, and Harvey intervenes.

“Lucius, you told me that the precinct has the tests on the murder weapon, no?”

“I said that I needed to do tests not-”

“Well good, think we're going to review the files,” Harvey signals Jim, who still is looking at the woman, probably doing a mental note about details. “We have Barnes behind our asses, might as well head back to the precinct.”

Lucius gives a low nod as a goodbye. Harvey going off the stage and off to the rows of the auditorium, Jim following him few steps behind him. It feels strange, given Jim jumps into action at any second and Harvey sees himself sighing before following him into the lion's den. And now, it feels something is out of place.

* * *

 

They are walking down the hall, rapid moments shuffling in the narrow space.

“The roommate is already in the interrogation room, pray they didn't talk to the press before us.” Harvey turns with the most serious face he can manage to Jim. “Or worse, that their lawyer is here. Those guys will see into your _soul._ ”

“So,” Jim gives him a deadpan expression as he moves past Harvey. “What do we know from the killer? Their profile?”

Harvey feels pleased with himself when he sees the corner of Jim's lips move. He gives a small leap as he tries to catch up with him.

“Male, Good looking, educated, around their 30’s or early 40’s. Somehow wealthy.” Harvey recites from memory, mostly by the countless times Barnes had declared to the press, and Harvey himself has warned to people he knows. "He shows the bodies in public places on an artistic scene, Fox says they're possibly representing a painting or a picture, but he hasn't identified any. He kills in pairs, although there is no apparent specific connection between them. At least not that we have found.”

“They call him 'The Matchmaker’ because of that,” Jim says, mostly to confirm it to himself

Harvey stops in front of a closed door, clear words mark it as the interrogation room. Jim looks at him, like a puppy ready for a walk. Eyes round, bright _blue_ , and he sees him bite the inside of his cheek. It's almost as if he is waiting for Harvey's permission, which in this case he thinks Jim has to because he isn't a detective.

He hoped they would reunite in other circumstances, not because of a serial killer on the loose. But hey, you can't choose how things happen.

Harvey sighs, looking defeated at his excitement. Although tearing his gaze off Jim was for another reason.

Harvey opens the door.

There is a woman in her early 20’s playing with her hands currently on the table. She looks up when they appear, and follows Harvey with her gaze where he stands.

“Jane Lee, you were Melissa Moretti's roommate. Isn't that right?”

“Yeah, for three years.” She lowers her eyes, they have a familiar glint Harvey can't identify. “Like I told you she said she was going to practice before her recital on Friday. She- she was so happy about it.”

Harvey paces slowly the room, giving her time to answer. Jim hasn't intervened yet. Because he feels still like he isn't a cop? Works himself some courage to pretend to be one again? Or is simple hat he doesn't want to be one anymore? The leather jacket sure gives away that he isn't one with the difference of the standard suit uniform every detective uses, but the suspect doesn't comment on it.

“Didn't you got worried that she didn't come back home?” Jim questions and Harvey smiles gently seeing him jump into action. “Why you only reported her a day later she disappeared?”

“She said she was going to be late and she didn't say this but I thought you know-” She gestures with her hands. Harvey looks confused at her, she couldn't see Jim who was leaning in the corner of the room.

“She was seeing someone, I don't know who. She was very secretive about it even we were very close, it was as if she didn't want anyone to know. She denied it when I talked about it in public.”

“Tell us more about this boyfriend of hers”

“It was not her boyfriend,” She rolls her eyes. "She just went out and got back in the dorm at like 4 am trying to be quiet, and believe me _she was not_. I don't know how she manages to go out, she has this important research of her in the DNA department as part of her thesis. I barely survive finals, and she was out there fucking some guy.”

There's a hint of jealousy on there and Harvey rises an eyebrow. The thing of being as he liked to tell Jim, _too old for this shit,_ is that police work had left him the ability to know when people are lying. Starting to read every gesture they make, and Harvey might be brushing the line of incompetent cop sometimes, but he sure as hell knows when a person means something or not.

They don't need to agree who is the good cop and the bad cop, or how this is going down. It's as they were synchronized in a way. The paces of the feet walking around the small interrogation room and the small gestures they seem to notice on each other is as much they can approach _words,_ that they talk. The blond passes a hand on his hair and the leather jacket of his sounds in the silence followed by questions. In a way, the sound new, mostly a costumed with the sound of suits, but the image of Jim still remains the same.

Harvey breathes out, and Jim turns at the noise thinking it's an indication. Harvey widens his eyes in embarrassment, before turning back again to the suspect.

“I don't know why are you questioning me, I thought that serial killer killed her.” She slowly raises her voice, turning too to see Jim. “You should be there trying to catch him instead of being _here_!

“Maybe it was a covered up” Harvey goes closer to her until she is leaning on the desk, hands resting on the cold metallic surface. “You know, she was the only one found in there. And The Matchmaker only kills in pairs. You sound like you weren't so happy with her new boyfriend there”

She jumps from his chair, pointing at him in disbelief. Her mouth moves, and she looks insulted by the assumption. Harvey smiles internally, he has made her react to it, he must not be wrong then.

“We are just trying to understand why the killer change their method with her” Jim intervenes, walking between both of them. Jim give him _a look_ , and Harvey presses his lips together by the action. “Whatever detail you tell us will help us catch the killer”

She works her jaw, but sees Jim's eyes again, and gives a shaky exhale before slumping back to her chair. She runs her fingers through her hair as if she was trying to make her mind in telling the truth.

“You were in love with her, don't you?” Jim asks, sitting on the corner of the table. His voice surprisingly low as if he was telling a secret. Harvey looks at him, involuntary taking steps back from them.

“Yes.” Her eyelids are heavy, and her gaze goes down. She swallows, before speaking again moments later. “I just cared so much for her, and at first it was just real genuine friendship you know? But then it just went downhill. Maybe because I was lonely, but I would just go see her out with other guys, and I was happy, sure it hurt but as cliché as it sounds I didn't envy them, I just felt sad for myself because I was not enough for her to even be an option.”

Harvey feels a sting on his chest as if someone had punched him, but he is in the corner of the room. As far as he can from both of the only people in there without raising suspicion. He is as far away from Jim.

“So no,” She said, voice choking on her throat. “As much as I loved her, I wouldn't kill her. It was fairly the opposite really. Haven't you had one person you would sacrifice anything for?”

Harvey closes his eyes. How he feels pity for the girl because in some way it's him who the words make sense. Like a song on the radio, like a distant memory. And Harvey hopes so much it could be another thing. Maybe when he watches those romantic movies teenagers seem to like so much. And Harvey leans on the wall of the quiet interrogation room, the words of the girl still echoing on it, and on his train of thoughts.

“No.”

It surprises it's out from his lips, and Jim turns his head towards Harvey too.

She rubs her fingers on her eyes, hair falling on his face but Harvey can hear the small hiccups of air in what is the beginning of a lament.

“It doesn't matter anyway.” She faces Jim again, Harvey notes her eyes are red. “She's gone now.”

The words sicken him up. He manages to say how the interview is over, _no further questions_ , before he is making his way out of there. Not bothering to wait for Jim, in the halls he breathes quickly and he closes his eyes trying to stop the shaking of his hands.

_Stupid, Stupid, you need to calm yourself._

There are the distinctive steps of someone walking behind him as if he was trying to catch him, and he forces himself to stop the choking on his throat. He closes his eyes, a breath, two.

When he turns back to Jim, Harvey is laughing.

"Come on Jimbo, now you have to chase me? How the tables have turned."

 

* * *

 

Harvey shoves the contents of his desk around, somehow trying to order a month worth of papers in a second.

“These rookies,” Harvey mumbles justifying his disorder.

Jim waits, the smug guy probably has an internal monologue of how Harvey's life has gone downhill since he left. Some part it's true, Harvey wasn't known for his order skills and at least Jim put in piles the files, or _Harvey don't use the toxicology report as a plate._ Other than that he was doing great mind you, a desk doesn't prove anything.

“Over here are the witnesses and there are the forensic reports” Harvey sighs as he sits in his chair, looking up to Jim still standing.

Jim shuffles on his feet. Harvey realizes he isn't properly a detective, but Barnes hasn't burst in from his office that's a few distance of them, to tell him he changed his mind about Jim. The younger one grabs a nearby file, and sits on the chair that once was his. _It is still_ , Harvey has to remind himself.

Harvey can see someone making their way to them, and he closes his eyes preparing himself mentally. Barnes had assigned Alvarez as a provisional partner even with the protests of Harvey, and now he finds Jim. Alvarez taps harshly Jim's shoulder once, twice and the blond turns slightly annoyed.

“What are you doing here.” Alvarez says, indicating to the chair, or the precinct. Harvey suspects Alvarez means Jim's existence in general.

“It's alright, he's with me,” Harvey drops the file he was reading, leaning on his chair. “Technically a consultant of some sorts, so I guess Barnes will let you off in this case. On the bright side, you can continue solving pity murder muggings now.”

Jim continues his reading, and Harvey does too. As much as he wants to see Alvarez clench his jaw and fists, the quick smile he gave was enough to satisfy him.

“At least I solve them.” Alvarez greets his teeth before storming off there.

Harvey raises his eyebrows and clicks his tongue almost comically, and he hears Jim chuckling quietly.

“He's right,” Jim comments, file open on a photo of the first crime scene. “We do need to solve this.”

Harvey searches with his eyes the desk, finally spotting a file and taking it. He must be familiar with at least half of them, spent nights staring as if they could give an indicator of what he was doing wrong. It reminds him of the old days, or young if you say, that he had. When he was like Jim, excited happy to help, all that police talk they give you in the academy. With the years, and what cases he has work in here, Gotham itself was exhausting and even let to consider himself to be one of those cops people call pigs when they pass them on the streets.

But Jim, oh, when he first stumbled in the GCPD and came barging in with the promises in cleaning the city and bringing justice like he once did, Harvey stopped him for once and all. Jim of course, as he now knows, was not an easy guy to shut down, and some of that heroic soul rub off on him. Harvey found himself investigating intently the case, maybe because he once lost the spirit he once got him in the force, and Jim helped him found it again without even noticing it.

“She said that Melissa Moretti was seeing someone. Maybe it was the killer. That would explain her being all secretive even with her best friend.” Harvey notices the strange way Jim pronounces the last word.

“It sure as hell is the killer. Being a secret lover of someone killed by The Matchmaker?” Harvey taps his fingers on the wooden desk. “The boyfriend would come forward without batting an eye. The press would go crazy.”

“That shows the killer is social and capable of manipulating people to the point of romantic relationships,” Jim is reviewing a file, talking without facing Harvey. “The places the bodies were found were not in a specific area. Either he has a place where he kills them and moves the bodies, or the places are not connected, which seems the case.”

Harvey cocks his head in amusement. So Jim has been following the case enough to conclude that on his own. Not the kind of putting newspaper cutouts on his wall and a spiderweb of threat obsession kind, but at least this had worried him enough before Harvey mentioned it.

“All of the murders took place in different territories, so this can't possibly be a tactic to incriminate a crime lord.”

Jim stands up from his chair, walking up to the board at the side of the desk. It has the photos of the victims, their eyes digging into Harvey's skin even when he looks away. Jim walks to the middle, a map of Gotham in the location where the victims were found. The new one it's still to be already added.

“That's part of The Sirens territory,” Jim points out on the map before his finger moves to another place. “That's Penguin's territory.’

Harvey hums.

“I thought everything now was technically Penguin's territory.”

“No, the crimelords get to keep them. It's more he looks the other way when stuff goes down in exchange for taxes. It's easier to control the city that way.”

“Look at you, only took you being a bounty hunter for a couple of months to become a street boy.” He doesn't comment on how he already knows this, mostly because Harvey likes the sound of Jim talking.

Jim stops in Harvey's disgrace. Mostly embarrassed by how confident he is talking as he used to do when he wore the badge. Jim goes sit down back again in front of him.

“What about the roses?” There is the sound of a paper turning in Jim's direction, and Harvey is delighted by his voice again. “He includes them on every murder”

“Fox said they're a rare type from Italy. I searched with all the local flower shops within the murders and found none.” Harvey taps impatiently his pen on the desk, eyes posing on other than Jim “I thought that the killer might be growing them on their own, but the botanist I call said the soil in here isn't right or things like that. Then I searched if they imported it to Gotham legally, and a dead end. Although my contact told me there was a smuggling shipment last week, guess from where.”

Harvey bites off a smile. Jim must have missed this if he shows this excitement, _professional and serious_ James Gordon. It gives him hope that maybe he will come back.

“Italy.” Jim catches himself leaning towards Harvey, and rests back in the chair.

“Aren't you a smart cookie”

Jim huffs, narrowing his eyes, a small smile on his lips. Harvey grins.

“Underworld.” Jim turns again to the map and the files on the desk. Harvey can practically see the light bulb being turned on above him.

Blue eyes turn to him, and Harvey opens his mouth like they had a willpower over him.

“Penguin. He controls Gotham now,” Harvey frowns upon hearing the name out of Jim's mouth. “If a ship came in the city, he would know.”

“What, you're just going to burst into the _mayor's_ house and ask him like that?”

Jim shrugs.

“I can call him and we'll meet him tomorrow to question him-” Jim suggests.

“You sure want me to come with you?” Harvey starts stacking the files as he sees Jim does too. Harvey imagines Jim has a method of organization, not stacking them at random, but now is not the time to overthink things. “Penguin and I aren't exactly great pals, you can go on your own. Saves me the painful trip.”

“If we're catching this guy were doing it together,” Jim's voice is rough in him, almost as if he was trying to cover it from something else.

Harvey blicks at him, there is something warm going through his body.

“Also” Jim points out. “I don't have police protection if Penguin decides to kill me it would be easier for him to disappear me now I'm a civilian. Going with the second in charge of the precinct, it's another thing.”

Harvey grins, chuckling at Jim with disbelief.

Harvey jokes, _you got me there,_ and they decide to meet up at 12 am at Jim's place. Harvey offered to pick Jim up, seeing he was the one with a car, and if Jim's bounty hunter rewards were not even enough to pay the bills, now that he is practically out of job, and doing this without a secure pay until, _if,_ they catch the killer.

He knows Jim tried to be smooth in pretending to be selfish on bringing him along in Penguin's meeting, and he is glad he didn't make it so personal or at least tried to. The small acts of kindness are a sight rare to occur in his life, and now from Jim, that's something else entirely. The result makes it worse by the constant reminder of the guilt he has with himself for feeling this way about Jim. Harvey knows that is bullshit, he knows Penguin or any criminal doesn't care if they kill cops, it's practically a sport at this point.

He drinks that night in the bar, knowing that at least what he considers a partner is going to be there the next day. Maybe not be there always, or the day after tomorrow, but at least can still remember the blushing of Jim's cheeks from today.

* * *

 

It's 12:27 when he pulls over in front of the grim apartment complex in the shady part of town. He looks in the confines of the apartment, but found no pissed Jim mumbling under his breath of how _late he was_ or how _He had better took the subway_ , which made Harvey glad for a part, but suspicious in why the great James Gordon was late.

Harvey gets his head out of the car window and looks into the sky for signs of the apocalypse. When he found no fire raining from the sky and hears no trumpets, he smiles smugly. Now whose life was going downhill since _who_ left.

After reflecting how the misery of his best friend isn't a good thing to celebrate about, he gets bored and honks the car horn in different tones and melodies.

His phone vibrates on his pants pockets after the third pop music he imitates from the car radio.

 _Harvey can you stop honking the horn_. The message read.

 _Sure_. Harvey texted back.

Harvey did not, in fact, stopped.

Minutes later an angry Jim comes off the building complex. Harvey jumps in his seat, head turning back facing the road, in attempt to embrace himself.

Jim knocks softly on the car's window, Harvey unlocks the locks and Jim opens the door.

“Catch.” Jim says, throwing a brown paper bag to his direction.

Harvey is hit by the bag on the head, in which Harvey highly suspects was not meant for him to catch.

“I bought you danishes,” The car moves by Jim's weight. “You shouldn't deserve them after probably half of the neighbors filing complain notes to me over the disturbance.”

Jim is wearing all black, but instead of his now common leather jacket, he is wearing a blazer. Fuck is this guy trying to get him a heart attack? Harvey needs to distract himself, and maybe take a breath or two.

“I bought you coffee,” Harvey says pointing out the coffee traveler set on the car, ignoring the light scolding he is receiving. “Black, no sugar, strong. The barista gave me a weird look of why I seem to hate my life so much, but I know it's your favorite.”

Harvey starts to pull over after asking Jim if he isn't forgetting something and he gives a no for an answer when he checks his pockets.

“Yours it's on the left, although if you want my creamed coffee with extra sugar, serve yourself”

Harvey's hand goes blindly to the paper bag while he pulls on the traffic. He inspects the danish, finds it's the ones from the place he loves and sets it on his mouth.

“You're driving Harvey,” Jim says. “ _Officer of the law._ ”

“And I'm using both hands!” Harvey says pointing out this by patting his palms on the car wheel. Or at least he tries to with the treat on his mouth, but he is sure Jim got it by the sigh he gives.

Jim asks if he knows where they meeting and Harvey rolls his eyes, now able to speak after he ate the danish from his mouth. Of course, he knows where the town hall is.

There are two gorillas that immediately surround them as soon as they step out from the car in front of the town hall. Harvey sighs, pulling his badge out.

“We got a meeting with Penguin, okay.” Harvey says. The two bodyguards look at them before escorting them inside.

Jim bites his cheek, and Harvey ignores it walking into practically the lion's den. The vaguely familiar rooms make present itself until they stop in front of a black door.

“Don't try any funny stuff.” A guard warns them. “It saves us the trouble for you and us.”

They can't answer because the other guard is already opening the door.

“The Mayor is expecting you.” The guard says, extending his hand towards the room.

Harvey lets Jim cross the room first and he follows.

Penguin is sitting on a long gothic chair, there is a smirk on his face, hands intertwined together. Talking about dramatic. Harvey is already tired, annoyed and other 30 different emotions upon seeing him. At least his hair is not that bad this year.

“Jim, old friend.” Penguin sounds delighted and he gestures excitedly at the blond.

“Oswald.”

“Hey, there Penguin. I'm here too.” Harvey waves his hand mockingly. Penguin turns to him, nose wrinkling at the sound of his voice. “Oh, sorry. _Mr. Mayor_ ”

Penguin still seems to be rocking out the three-piece suit, and what's with everyone wearing black now? Should Harvey consider changing his wardrobe now?

“You want me to torture him, boss?” Oh yes, Victor Zsasz is also here, grinning at him. He must be Penguin's right side, literally, as he is standing behind the smaller man.

Harvey greets him too.

“ _No, Victor.”_ Penguin whispers angrily, turning to the bald man on his side. “And If I wanted to, I wouldn't tell you in front of them.”

Zsasz nods, and he turns sadly to him. Harvey it's just perplexed.

“Oswald.” Jim interrupts, taking a few step on front. Penguin seems to go back to calm himself. “We need some information.Were investigating The Matchmaker killings.”

Penguin looks delighted, elbow resting on the table, cheek resting on a hand turned into a fist.

“Another favor, Jim?”

Harvey doesn't like how Penguin calls him in a close tone, as if the name itself stung on his chest, and the way he pronounced _Jim_ made his jaw clench.

“Come on, Penguin.” Harvey intervenes, hating the way those icy unnatural eyes are posing on warm ones. “Help us with this. Don't you want safety and what is best for the people, or stuff like that now that you got the big chair?”

“Of _course_ I want to help,” Harvey doesn't know why Penguin over-pronounces words when he is starting to lose his temper, but it helps not taking the short man too seriously. “Do you know how much your approval rate lowers when there is a serial killer in the streets? It would be more difficult convincing the people of Gotham I won the re-election cleanly.”

Penguin hasn't even been in office for six months and he is already thinking on re-election. Talking about people getting ahead of themselves.

“We have pinned down a shipment coming from Italy that might've come around two weeks ago,” Harvey takes out the notepad on the interior of his suit pocket, reading the name of the ship. “We think the killer bought the roses, their personal signature, from there.”

Jim shifts on his feet beside him, Penguin looks pensive for a moment.

“Victor.” Penguin makes a gesture for him to come closer, until he is leaning in his ear. He covers his mouth with a gloved hand and whispers something to the bald man.

Zsasz nods to Penguin before he goes out of the room, Harvey unconsciously moves his hand to where his pistol rests. Penguin gives a forced smile, and the three of them wait in silence until the door opens again,  Zsasz returns with a man carrying a suitcase.

The old man looks nervous, which is bizarre because he is clearly someone important by the way he dresses in a tailored brown suit, but he is playing with his hat on his hand.

“I'm the Chief of Commerce in Mr. Cobblepot's term, nice to meet you,” He gives a nod, but doesn't sound like he is glad in being here. Penguin glares at him. “You were asking for the records of a ship, I presume?”

“Yeah, but we don't think they exactly wanted to put their names. We were thinking something more… _clandestine_ ,” Harvey turns to Penguin. “No offense mayor.”

The nervous man takes a quick take on Penguin, before clearing his throat. Harvey tells him the name of the ship, and he searches on his suitcase, then pulling a leather notebook. The man gives a low sound of surprise when he checks the paper.

“What is it,” Penguin demands to know, the man jumping at the voice.

“That shipment sir, coming from Italy, was robbed,” The man makes himself shorter. “Two men were killed”

“Two were killed, why didn't you reported it?” Jim questions.

Victor raises his hand, bringing them the attention of all, Penguin nods for him to speak.

“We did. No one cares about people being murdered now, more with the GCPD focusing on The Matchmaker” Victor smiles mischievously. “It's like Christmas to _us_.”

Jim coughs, Harvey narrows his eyes.

“I have the workers logs and statements here if you want to see them, detectives.” The brown-suited man offers, extending a couple of paper to them.“When something happens on shipments owned by -associates- of ours, workers are required to give declarations.”

Well, that's convenient. God bless the organized crime and its strict policies. Harvey takes them, Jim going closer to him, shoulder brushing into him. He tries not to grin, knowing Penguin must be watching them closely.

Around 12 pm on Sunday they disembark in the Gotham Shore, 20 or so minutes later they heard disturbances in where trucks were handling the crates. The captain went to check out, two other men were with him, a private and the first mate. They saw two people, dressed in all black, they had knocked out the men and were loading a small truck with crates. The captain tried to stop them and shot one of them in the arm, the other apparently panicked and got a gun and shot the private on the chest three times. The captain seeing this, tried to snatch the gun away, but the wounded person then hit him on the head with a crate. The first mate when running to aid the captain found him dead. The two people escaped with 5 crates that were loaded on their truck.

“You had any suspects?” Jim's rough voice makes itself present again, and Harvey brakes back to reality.

“Mr. Zsasz here took upon- _interrogating,_ some possible people.” Zsasz laughs at the comment. The old man takes the files again and saves them on his case, but pulls out some new ones again. “At the time we didn't know it was related to the serial killer, so we just, well. We investigated rival competitors but found none. The crates content that were stolen were quite unusual. They were ordered specifically by the people on this list.”

Harvey goes to grab the paper, but Penguin clears his throat.

“Ah ah _ah,_ ” The smaller man wiggles his finger on the air, amusement on his face as Harvey turns to him. “Nothing is free, Detective Bullock.”

Harvey suppresses a deep sigh, tries to remain calm. It's not the first time he made a deal with a criminal, let alone a criminal who also happens to be the mayor and the most powerful person in the city. Penguin made sure to show them that, with the whole charade of being the King of Gotham. Harvey raises his hands, awaiting for Penguins proposition, or more like terms in this case.

“I'm sure when Captain Barnes decides to…..retire.” Penguin puts a fake smile, and god how such a small man could have so much evil with him. Harvey is surprised what Gotham can create. “You will be the next one in charge.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Harvey says with disinterest. He isn't exactly into the whole captain idea, but he knows if something happens to Barnes he will be in charge of the whole force, which scares him and excites him as a whole. He isn't the one driven by lust and power, but he somehow thinks he would like in some way being captain.

“For the re-election, I would need the support of the GCPD.” Penguin explains. Rising from his high chair, Zsasz handles him a cane, which he takes. “That includes the either second in command or the new captain. And let's just say- right now I don't have the _best of luck_ in promoting a safe city, regardless if I captured all those monsters before.”

Penguin swallows, blue on eyes that make Harvey repulsed. The color looks so _wrong_ on someone like him.

“Take a picture with me, Detective.”

“What?” Harvey smiles, teeth clenching. He turns to Penguin.

“Consider it as a payment for giving you the list of my so _loyal_ customers without a warrant. This isn't a favor, Jim never pays back the ones I do for him.”

Penguin moves, cane sounding on the black marble tiles, along with his injured pace of feet. He snaps his fingers and Zsasz shouts and order. The door opens, and a trembling man appears with a camera similar to the press.

Penguin is being serious.

He turns to look at Jim on disbelief, the blond stands quietly, hands resting on his hips. Harvey notices him moving his eyes from him to Penguin. Jim presses his lips.

Harvey swallows his pride and goes beside Cobblepot, in some way not feeling as humiliated as such with the smaller complex the man bares. He knows Harvey dislikes the little man. After what happened between Penguin and Jim in the past it shouldn't be a surprise. They both have a distaste for each other, and now Penguin wants Harvey to be all smiles around him for the press. The mayor wants a photo? He's going to get one.

“Hope you got dressed well today, Bullock.”

Jokes on Penguin, he actually did. Trimmed his beard, put some water on his long hair. Wanted to give a good impression to Jim after coming back to work with him.

Harvey poses in which he pretends to shake Penguin's hand. He takes off his hat and tells Jim to hold it for a moment. Both of the men are smiling brightly, and Penguin does too a great job. The photographer goes in front of them, and then the flash engulfs the place for a second. The smaller man beside him laughs, and Harvey goes away from his side as fast as he can. 

Jim takes the paper from the brown-suited man and starts getting out from the room after letting a small and brief goodbye to Penguin. Harvey is turning away to the door when a cane is positioned on the tile in front of his shoes, stopping him.

Penguin looks down, then back up to Harvey. His Adam's Apple moves as Harvey waits for him to speak up.

"Take care of him."

* * *

 

“Well, that went surprisingly well.” Harvey huffs, unlocking Jim's car door first, then going on his own.

He closes his door, car engine starting. Jim checks the piece of paper on his hand, calligraphically handwritten with the names of what would be a solid lead.

“It doesn't make sense, why would they steal the crates containing the flowers if they already order them?”

“Maybe to not appear suspicious, if they did deliver them they would immediately be a suspect, but if there is a little accident happening and them never receiving it they might be innocent, maybe even appear victims of this.” Jim's eyes are in front of the road while he speaks, which maybe Harvey should do that seeing he is driving. But the sight he has now it's just magnificent.

“We never discarded the possibility of the killer being more than one people, but we didn't consider it either.”

“Do you think maybe it's possible that Melissa Moretti helped the killer to steal the crates? What if she knew about the killings, that they were dating a serial killer?” Jim suggests, his voice quieter. As if the idea itself was ridiculous.

“Love does make you do strange things.” He says it in a way so familiar, yet maybe too much. He hoped it sounded more like a past event, and the truth is that it's still happening and seems never to stop. “That would certainly explain the two people in the port.”

Jim stays quiet on his side, so Harvey fills the silence once again. It's not uncomfortable, but he can maybe get Jim to talk again. Harvey likes the sound of his voice.

“Can you read me the list?” Harvey asks as he pulls on the highway.

“Order number 23IY4 of Flowers of- that's just the scientific name, I'm going to skip that,” Jim interrupts, Harvey sees movement beside him on the corner of his eye. “The names who ordered the mentioned product are: Gotham Botanic Research Department, Gotham DNA Department, Wayne Manor, Gotham National Gallery, Private Collector -in parentheses- Italian Mafia.”

Harvey makes a particularly aggressive turn, the shoulder of Jim touch him slightly by it.

“There seems to be some kind of theme here.” Harvey vaguely comments. “Melissa Moretti, Italian mafia, the flowers.”

“Could be a coincidence or the main reason. Might not know until we interrogate the people in charge of this places” Harvey hears the sound of a paper, which he thinks it's Jim folding it and saving it. “Tomorrow we should head to the ADN Department and the Botanic research. I can talk to Alfred Pennyworth on the phone about the flowers ordered by Wayne Manor to save us the trip.”

Harvey pulls over where they had been just a couple of hours ago. He had driven without a thought to Jim's complex, blindly making the route on his head even Jim had moved recently when he had become a bounty hunter.

“I've been meaning to ask you but-” Harvey starts, and then stops.

He knows what is in his mind, but then he turns and Jim is watching him. Lips apart, red, almost, as if he was biting them recently. _Blue eyes_ that are so clear yet so warm. Harvey suddenly forgetting the words in his mind, and other thoughts replace them. Thoughts he had replaced for Jim's own good. Harvey's own good? He has long stopped caring for himself. It's more about the sake of the blond in front of him, who is blinking at him cluelessly.

Harvey tears his gaze off him.

“Want to come over my place, Jimbo?” Harvey quickly recovers, but he avoids Jim's whole, _person,_ or at least his face. God, he must look like a teenager once again.“Drink couple beers, order some pizza just like the ol' days.”

“I don't know Harvey-” Jim bites his cheek, hand moving on the door handle.

“ _Or maybe_ go out to a bar.”

“Thanks, Harv, but-” There is the sound of the car door being unlocked and opened. Harvey closes his eyes, backing off from Jim. “I think I'll rest for today.”

Rejection. A somehow familiar feeling, but it still stings on his chest. Harvey has known it would come, but he presses his lips together, licks his lips. Oh, Harvey suddenly has the urge to go to the liquor store and buy all their inventory. He watches him leave, and Harvey lets him. There's a twitching on his fingers, but he puts them on a grip on the cartwheel to distract himself.

“I don't think I thanked you for the danishes.” Harvey blurts out, mentally slapping himself after it. To his surprise, Jim turns around.

“Yeah, no problem.” Jim smiles at him, hands resting for a moment on the open window of the door before retrieving them. “Thanks for the coffee”

Jim closes the door, before leaving. He stays in the car in silence for a while too long after Jim is gone, and then he starts the engine again.

The television helps drown out the silence of the apartment.

The alcohol helps drown out the loudness of his mind.

He takes another swing of his beer, the other hand tracing on the buttons of the remote. The old TV rambles about infomercials, and he looks at them while laying on his worn out couch. A wife-beater shirt and on his boxers, who would thought that's how he would pass his nights. Bored out of his mind that he was considering in buying the _New Remastered Sponge 300_ the TV had talked about non-stop for almost 45 minutes, despite not remembering how long he hasn't had takeout or used disposable plates.

He should be wasting his money on something important anyway. People of his age, _old,_ should be spending their money on their children, their husband or wife; maybe even divorced by now and paying off the kids pensions. Not wasting their pay on beer, well, it's not a cheap brand like he uses to buy for himself. But they weren't meant for Harvey.

Many shoulds he hasn't done.

He decides to move to his bed, because yes he does have one instead of sleeping on a dirty old couch. He lays for a few moments, trying to close his eyes. Since he was a kid he would use the city's sounds as white noise to fall asleep. But now the sound it's foreign on his ears, and the noise it's too loud.

His hand unconsciously travels inside his underwear.

He tries to think another thing. A pretty waitress his age, then a younger one. Blond long hair manages to go into his unconscious, and soon after he is imagining plump lips. He runs his hands over their body, that turns to be soft but it's not long that he can feel the defined stomach under his touch.Their thighs, their hips are not curvy but instead, muscles prevent for him to sink his fingers into them.

Blue eyes.

He feels disgusted, when he finishes. His illusions never became something so sexual, but it has been there. Most of what he wants with the blue-eyed boy, because he _is a boy_ regardless of what he has lived through, Harvey reminds himself. What Harvey wants is his touch. A touch of his lips, of his hair. Would it feel as soft as it looks if he runs his fingers on it? Would the lips be as inviting with his own?

Harvey lays on the pillow, swallowing hard until he forces himself to get up. He takes a _cold shower_ as a _punishment,_ because that's what it is. He knows he is the one to blame not the blond who makes him like this.

He was supposed to be Jim's mentor, some kind of guidance that taught him his knowledge or some bullshit like that. Not whatever he was doing right now.

The noise of the city won't let him sleep. Or at least that's Harvey's excuse to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh I know! It's still too much to tell and I really love slow burn as painful at it is. Sorry, I couldn't do more! College is hell! I will publish more but want to have long chapters in this so will wait till I have enough!  
> 
> 
> Don't worry for Harvey he will get there (eventually), or maybe not! I don't know! Surprise! I tried something light-hearted wrapped with serious stuff. Also, I'm sorry I lowkey made Harvey dislike Penguin. Penguin is actually one of my faves! Sorry, little bird! I think Harv would actually not be jealous of anyone that Jim went out with, but in this AU maybe something bigger went between those two that makes Harvey like that? You'll see.  
> 
> 
> Validate me with your kudos and comments! I don't know why I'm using exclamation so much! but I'm excited in finally writing the boys, sweetest paring in the world.  
> 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading the first part! Tell me how I can improve, I'm open to all criticism!


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